


Oh No You Didn't

by Booda



Category: Rebecca - Daphne du Maurier
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 06:23:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2802701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Booda/pseuds/Booda





	Oh No You Didn't

**Author's Note:**

  * For [odell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/odell/gifts).



 

I had been Mrs. George Fortescue Maximilian de Winter for less than three months when I arrived at Manderley Hall. It has been less than one month since I have had the responsibility as the new Mrs. de Winter at Manderley. Moreover, all this time I have also been living in this great house with its long endless halls, empty ballroom, heavy damask draperies, huge hearths and countless rooms with Mrs. Danvers. The prim and proper Mrs. Danvers. In her black wool dress and starched white collar, the severe braided black hair wrapped tightly around her head, her straight unmoving posture and the monotone matter of fact way she had of speaking without any emotion whatsoever. Mrs. Danvers could cause a chill in a room when a warm fire was burning in the hearth. I felt unsure of myself and unable to gather my thoughts to perform a single sentence when I had to speak with her. I was unable to breathe when she came near me. Mrs. Danvers made me feel inadequate, clumsy, plain, awkward and aware of my inexperience and lack of breeding to be the new Mrs. de Winter of Manderley Hall. She and the staff referred to me as “the child”. Perhaps I was a child bride but I was deeply in love Maxim and I was determined to make my marriage a success. I loathed Mrs. Danvers from the start. 

I will try as best as I can to tell you how it all came about.  
Mrs. Danvers has been at Manderley since the first Mrs. de Winter was a bride. Mrs. Danvers ran the house at Manderley, she oversaw the upstairs maids, the parlor maids, and in short, she controlled Manderley. Maxim told me as we drove up the long driveway not to worry about anything, that Mrs. Danvers was the head housekeeper and to leave everything up to her. 

Upon my first morning at Manderley, I went down for breakfast and finally found the room with which I could partake. There was a long breakfront with chafing dishes filled to the brim with breakfast foods. Eggs, porridge, fish, beans, potatoes, too much food for one person. I don’t like waste; I had a simple upbringing and had to make do all my life. Manderley I was finding out was excessive and extravagant. I poured myself a single cup of tea and reaching for the napkin I was surprised to see it was engraved with R de W. 

After breakfast, I was told it was customary for the Lady of Manderley Hall to adjourn to the morning room to review the luncheon and supper menus, take care of correspondence and oversee the gardener’s list of chores. Nevertheless, I had no one to correspond to and knew nothing of addressing issues with menus. The desk was stocked with the former Mrs. de Winter’s engraved stationary with a large ornate R embossed on everything. R for “Rebecca”. R engraved on the letter opener, R embroidered on the address book, R etched on the crystal vase filled with Rebecca’s favorite flowers, R embroidered on the sofa pillows, R, R, and R everywhere. I knew Mrs. Danvers was made aware that Maxim was coming home to Manderley with his new bride, why hadn’t Mrs. Danvers disposed of the personal belongings of the former and deceased Rebecca de Winter.

The following day Maxim left for London for a few days on business leaving me alone in the great house with the staff and Mrs. Danvers. I avoided her every chance I had. Slipping from one room to the next when I heard her footsteps or I overheard her speaking to a member of the staff. I felt frightened and afraid of my own shadow alone in this huge house with her. I desperately wanted Maxim to get back to Manderley quickly. To save me from her, from being in this big house alone with her. Yes, I felt alone with her even with all the staff around. Mrs. Danvers’ presence was overpowering. I could see her shadow on the walls, large, looming, creeping around corners as if her shadow had a life of its own. Mrs. Danvers lived in the walls, she peered in from the windows when no one was there, she would appear suddenly behind you or standing in a doorway. Mrs. Danvers was everywhere. When I slept, I would awake in terror as if she were standing over me. I could feel her breath and smell her acrid perfume behind me as I read a book in the library. Mrs. Danvers was everywhere.

Across from my room and the staircase, leading to the main hall was the west wing. The only thing that was visible at the landing was an ornate, pristine white double door, which Mrs. Danvers had informed me on my first night at Manderley was private and that no one was allowed to enter. Today I was going to open that door. After all, I was the mistress of Manderley now.

I approached the door as if I were a schoolgirl afraid of being caught by one of the nuns and then to be punished for my bad behavior. I turned the gold handle and walked in.  
The room was breathtaking. Sheer white curtains hung from ceiling to floor windows overlooking the ocean. When I looked out from the window, I could see a shear drop to the crashing waves of the sea. There was a beautiful carved bed on a small raised platform with sheer lace curtains adorning the canopy, the spread done up in silk jacquard and an embroidered lingerie pillow with the letter R rested atop the bed pillows. Gold leafed frames adorned oil paintings. French antiques chairs, a marble topped vanity with a velvet-upholstered chair. On the vanity was a solid silver frame of Maxim (my husband), several jeweled atomizers filled with French perfume, an ivory handled brush and comb set, a cut crystal powder and puff bowl and a gold lipstick case. The walk in closet was the size of the little house I grew up in with my father. There were fresh roses on every available table in the room. As if …. the room was expecting someone.

“Do you wish for anything, madam?” 

“I didn’t expect to see you, Mrs. Danvers. I noticed the window wasn’t closed and I came up to see if I could fasten it.”

“Why did you say that? I closed it before I left the room. You opened it yourself, didn’t you? You’ve always wanted to see this room, haven’t you, madam? Let me show you now, madam. It’s a lovely room isn’t it? The loveliest room you have ever seen. Everything is kept just as Mrs. de Winter liked it. Nothing has been altered since that last night.”

Mrs. Danvers proceeded to give me tour of this grand room. The dressing room which held the many mink coats that Maxim gave to Rebecca as gifts. The expensive jewels he bought for her, the cabinet that held her underwear that was made especially for Rebecca by the nuns of Saint Claire. The dressing table where Rebecca would sit while Mrs. Danvers would brush her hair listening to her recant the evening escapades. The pillow where Rebecca would lay her head at night while she slept. It was as if I were listening to a heartsick lover recalling the tales of a lost love. I felt dizzy and sick to my stomach and ran over to the window for some fresh air. Mrs. Danvers blocked my way. All the while, she kept on lamenting about the great and beautiful Rebecca.  
“You tried to take her place, you let him marry you. You thought you could be Mrs. de Winter, live in her house, walk in her steps, make love to her husband, and take the things that were hers. But she is too strong for you. You could never be her, you could never beat her, and it wasn’t a man who beat her or a woman. No one ever got the better of her. It was the sea who got the better of her; it was the sea who took her”.

“Stop it, stop it. Leave me alone will you”, I cried at her.

“You’re out of sorts madam. I’ve opened a window for you. A little air would do you good.”

I was sobbing as I walked to the window. Feeling I could never live up to the memory of Rebecca. That I would lose Maxim and my marriage was a farce. I couldn’t catch my breath from my sobs, I couldn’t see from my tears. I wanted Mrs. Danvers to stop talking. I didn’t want to hear the name of Rebecca again. I walked over to the window. The sea air felt cold on my tear stained cheeks, the scent of the ocean started to clear my head. All the while Mrs. Danvers was talking wildly about Rebecca and her beauty and how deeply Maxim loved her, still loved her. That I was nothing and would always be nothing compared to Rebecca. I put my arms around Mrs. Danvers crying into her shoulder and my hands suddenly pushed her out of the window, Rebecca’s window, into the sea, the crashing sea that took Rebecca and now Mrs. Danvers. I walked over to the vanity and began brushing my hair smiling at my reflection. The reflection of Mrs. de Winter.


End file.
